


Odd Times and Odd Places

by Lalahona



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alive Bianca di Angelo, F/M, Gen, Hades (Percy Jackson) is a Good Parent, Happy Nico di Angelo, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Nico di Angelo as a toddler, and romano is mentioned like twice, big brother china, but theres still a rating for his potty mouth, di Angelo family, hetalia in 2020?? unheard of, i wanted to give maria a backstory ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalahona/pseuds/Lalahona
Summary: Putting two powerful immortals in the same room has, historically, rarely ended well, but the kind-hearted Maria di Angelo is more than eager to introduce her family to an old friend. Thus, Feliciano Vargas gets quite involved in the tale of the di Angelo family in the strangest of ways.(Inspired by In Which Shadows Are Unexpected on ff.net by WriterGreenReads)
Relationships: Bianca di Angelo & Maria di Angelo, Bianca di Angelo & Nico di Angelo, Maria di Angelo & Nico di Angelo, Maria di Angelo/Hades, Nico di Angelo & Hades
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	Odd Times and Odd Places

Feliciano liked food. And parties. Meeting nice people from his country was nice, too because face it, when was it not? It gave him a chance to make friends—that was always a good sign, Grandpa used to tell him.

Speaking of making friends, Feliciano also liked diplomacy. Diplomacy was always nice because that meant no fighting for as long as possible (mostly). Yeah, it was a fancy word to mean “getting on their good side,” but since it could also sometimes mean “making friends” Feliciano wasn’t complaining. The best way to have diplomacy was to have it with food, though. Food always makes everything better.

That’s why dinner was a wonderful idea!

If Lovino had heard him he probably would’ve scoffed and rolled his eyes, Feliciano thought fondly. Originally, he was meant to be there too, but his older brother couldn't be bothered to attend _a stupid fucking dinner with some cabbage-hair potatoes with wine grapes for brains, fuck you_.

The words that were used to describe the politicians and businessmen who would inevitably be at the party weren’t exactly the most flattering, but Lovino had put just a bit of malice into his ‘fuck you’ for Feliciano to understand it meant ‘I don’t care, I don’t wanna go, you can’t convince me otherwise’.

Didn’t stop him from trying, though.

Feliciano continued to plead a few times with his older brother after that interesting debacle in the kitchen—and debacles with fratello were always interesting! Predictably, trying to convince him that a simple dinner with some of Italy's officials and their families was nothing bad and that as Nations it would be nice to sit and talk with them—was a failure on his part. Lovino had turned down the idea a few more times with a few more choice words after that.

He had finally let it go when Lovino finished the argument by saying that if something interesting _did_ happen, Feliciano would have to tell him immediately about it or be met with the sorry sight of his scented papers floating in a Viking’s funeral on the Tiber River. Otherwise, he should shut his trap. And because Feliciano valued his stationary and his life, he finally relented. He would rather those letter papers serve their purpose to communicate with his leaders working on agricultural development or his _sorelle_ in the South—like what they’re meant to, _thank you very much_.

He was brought back to the present by a soft gust of light breeze brushing his cheek, and Feliciano now found himself on a nice hotel roof deck restaurant in Venice. He had retreated to the secluded little upstairs garden after having numerous conversations with various leaders and officials for the whole night so far—some pleasant, some tiresome.

Feliciano wasn’t one to get his spirits down so easily, though, so while slightly tipsy politicians dined on delicious cheeses and pastries as an after-supper snack, Feliciano snuck up the stairs for a breath of fresh air in the warm summer night.

It wasn't really as bad as Romano made it sound, really. Feliciano chuckled softly to himself, knowing that Romano just had a bit of a hard time talking to strangers who were middle-age politicians instead of flowery young women, but Feliciano didn't need to pry, so he didn't.

“Good evening, signore. A peaceful night, isn’t it?”

A polite tone of voice snapped his attention from the light wine that he had been sipping happily on the open balcony of the hotel roof deck. He could feel the effects of the slightly strong beverage affecting him somewhat, but he’d been having Grandpa Roma’s wine since before he could even speak French.

Why yes, the evening certainly was nice and cool and gave the darkness a sense of serenity.

The sound of flowing water of a small fountain and the quiet chirping of insects certainly helped, being just loud enough to drown the sounds of a drunken party a few floors below him in the music of nature.

He turned around with an instinctive friendly greeting resting on his tongue and gave his most flattering smile. He looked into the dark but shining eyes of the young lady. She gave a smile in return as Feliciano bent to kiss the back of her hand and give a flirty smile. “It’s always a beautiful night when a star blesses the night with her light. Tell me, signorina, how lucky am I to have met you?”

"The pleasure is mine, young man,” the young woman giggled, and Feliciano brightened ever so slightly at having pleased her with his simple compliment. “May I know your name, signore, or would you prefer if I referred to you as ‘the Charming One’?" Feliciano couldn't help but smile wider at her eager friendliness and witty humor.

Ooh, the young man who would catch this one’s eye would be lucky indeed.

And because he never enjoyed over-formal greetings like the ones he gave his officials, he allowed himself to lean back a little in a casual posture, relaxed and confident. He knew it would’ve gotten him irritated stares from a few of the more posh partygoers downstairs if he had been seen. Those people had too many bags of cash, too big of a head, and too little time to care about a supposedly low-ranking socio-military figure such as himself. They tended to give him no more than a two-second glance and a curt handshake and then moved on to someone more important to rub elbows with.

Honestly, it could be tiring, even for him, so he was glad for the unexpected pleasant company. She must be a relative of an official, then, if her presence at the party and aristocratic poise and ladylike manners spoke for anything.

"Ve~ well since you so kindly asked, bella, I shall give it." He said, eyes twinkling. "I am Feliciano Vargas of Venice of the International Diplomatic Affairs Office of Italy," he said. The half-truth slipped easily from his tongue as he gave his less suspicious title than 'Nation and Human Personification of Northern Italy.'

The signorina’s lips moved to form a smile, and her chocolate orbs smiled with her. Very pretty, especially for a young woman like her who seemed not that much older than her early twenties—a bachelorette. Her nice blue-black dress was velvet was fashionable in a way that promoted elegance rather than lavishness, and the dainty pearl accessories on her fingers and hair brought out her youth.

"A pleasure, signore Vargas," her voice angelic and friendly. "I am Maria di Angelo. My father is the Italian Ambassador to the US. I assume that by your similar titles, you are well-versed with each other?"

They were, actually. Feliciano allowed himself to outwardly smile and give a chirpy hum in agreement. He knew Ambassador di Angelo well enough, seeing as how diplomacy often called for multiple contenders on both sides, and Feliciano was truthfully very happy to be a part of a team when dealing with such affairs. Di Angelo was a good man with a level head and apparently had passed along that trait on to a lovely daughter.

The night continued on as a conversation began between the two—the blooming point of a valued friendship. There on the balcony in the cool wind, they made small and joyful talk. Be it about politics, educated topics, art and literature, hobbies and talents, or the occasional piece of gossip, Feliciano was glad to speak—it was his forte after all—and was extremely pleased to find the lady Maria continuing the conversation with the same energy and interest.

It was refreshing, really, to find such a good conversationalist and be able to speak with them in such a casual manner in such a formal setting.

“I wasn’t aware that the esteemed Ambassador di Angelo had such a lively young girl for a daughter. Let alone a daughter at all!” Feliciano said as they both recovered from a giggling fit from a joke Feliciano had told a few minutes prior.

“Oh, my father doesn’t talk about me too much,” she replies bubbly. “Since I was a child, he has raised my male cousins who are as good as brothers to me and has been teaching them the reins to politics since then. I am a lesser-seen member of his house. He loves me just as I love him, but he has yet to find a suitable university where I may continue my studies.”

Cute, friendly, and clearly educated well, too. Feliciano couldn’t help but allow a bit of approval and appreciation to slip into his tone. “Do you have any place in mind, bella?”

“Oh, well…if I could go somewhere, I’d love to go to the Superior School of Bologna.”

Feliciano couldn’t help it. His eyes went wide in a mix of surprise and pride, and a soft gasp escaped his lips. Better that than an unflattering string of stuttering, of course, though he definitely came close to that.

“The Superior School of Bologna? As in, _La Collegio Superiore di Bologna?_ Ve~ the finest college of the nation would absolutely be thrilled to have a talented woman such as yourself!

Maria merely gave a smile at his praise and gestured vaguely. “Oh, I’m not sure if I could, though. It is, as you’ve said, a very refined establishment.”

“ _Si_ , but it is widely known there are other fine ladies who have entered the school in recent years and came out holding their diploma with their seal on their paper. Surely, you must be able to as well!”

Maria’s smile was a sight to behold, warm and welcoming like the flames of a hearth keeping its house a cozy and safe place for its dwellers. It was simply stunning to see the beauty of this flower ready to bloom and show the world it’s bright colors.

“Perhaps. Though, I understand they pay their focus to their science students. The sciences attract my interest, yes, but classic literature and philosophies and modern politics have always been my passion, so to speak.”

“Ah, I see, I see, then,” Feliciano said, his excitement toning down a bit to match Maria’s calm and soothingly bubbly personality. His voice still held a slight bit of mischievousness, though. “But I assure you, fate will not let you down at any school you shall choose to go to—any school that disappoints you will live to regret it!”

Maria laughed again, her sparkling voice filling the night air with happiness and motion, and the two carried on their conversation well into the night. The partygoers only a few floors downstairs remained oblivious to the laughter of Nation and citizen as they sat side-by-side in the upstairs garden. Conversation filled the air as the warm lights of the Venice background lit up the night, soothing as candlelight. The outside world seemed like years away as the two remained content in their own little bubble.

And when it was time to leave and say polite goodbyes later that evening, both couldn't help but be a bit disappointed. Promising to write to each other, they parted ways.

And write to each other they did, for a pleasant length of time. And it wasn't necessarily a secret either. Romano was quite pissed for the next few months that he hadn't the chance to talk to this lovely signora who ‘smiled like a star’ as Feli had told him that he kept on writing to. Maria mentioned being in a similar predicament as well and had mentioned multiple times that her father told her that Feli might as well court her if they were communicating well and often.

It made Feliciano laugh to himself. Oh if only. Maybe in a different life, he could've courted and married the lively Maria, but not now, not in this one. Bless the soul of the one who does that he may treat this woman with the respect she deserved.

For now, though, the two were content on being good pen pals and company when chance would come, be it at another social gathering or by chance on and on government grounds when Maria accompanied her father in business.

But like many long-distance relationships at the time, it had to end somehow. It ended on a bittersweet note, with Maria saying goodbye before her father would send her to America to study.

> _…I am going to the_ _Wesleyan College of Macon in Georgia in two months. Its campus accepts women students, and Father expresses his wishes that I earn my degree there. Feli, he tells me that he wishes me to find happy memories to bring back home to Italy in a few years’ time. But how does one find happy memories, instead of making them for themselves, no? I’m sure you know the answer, my philosophical friend. Sometimes I wonder if Apollo himself has gifted the wisdom of the gods upon you, and that you are secretly his Sibyl._
> 
> _Time has passed quickly between us. I do hope to hear your voice someday in the future. Will you still remember me then as a friend after all that time?_
> 
> _—Maria_

Oh, Maria, he thought, as he put away the letter back into its lovely light canary yellow envelope and picked up a pen to continue his own half-finished letter. She was to the truth, but not quite there. The nub of his pen scratched paper as he wrote down all the words and wishes and thoughts from his own head.

> _Believe me, Maria, wisdom is something we all need in this world of truth and fallacies. But oftentimes I find that even the most wise of the philosophers to match the likes of Aristotle and Socrates have had their moments of dullness. I’m no Sibyl, but believe me when I say that I’m happy I’m not. Knowing all that will happen, when it will happen, and to whom is a temptation many cannot resist, but only because they will use that knowledge for wicked deeds. Study your philosophies well, Maria, and you will find that the beauty of wisdom is not in the ability to know everything, but the ability to get as close you can to that far away star known as the truth._
> 
> _Forgive my blunt manner, but I of all people should know the way time is quick as a robin but crawls as slowly as the turtle on land. Enjoy your moments there in that new foreign land, as these moments only happen briefly in long lives. In the blink of an eye you will have a book, the Odyssey on your lap, then a wedding dress in your hands, then a child on your knee, then these letters from me to you, as you reminisce your youth in old age._
> 
> _I look forward to seeing you in the flesh again, little miss di Angelo. I wait eagerly to see the fruits of time that shall spring forth from you._
> 
> _–Feliciano_

But even as he folded his letter, careful not to smudge the wet ink, Feliciano knew deep in his heart that he would likely never see the bright, shining Maria di Angelo dressed in dark-blue velvet ever again. It was time for them to separate ways, and he couldn’t be more proud of the brilliant girl with a strong mind who he crossed paths with on a warm night in Venice.

It was always that way with Nations—people come, people go. But those people also remind him why he had a reason to live on.

Thus, Feliciano never could have guessed that he would see Maria again.

* * *

It wasn't exactly a good time for this, his subconscious told him.

He could feel it, and he was positive that he was, sooner or later, going to be right. A war was brewing and was just around the corner. With all the political unrest and power seizing in Europe lately, it was inevitable. If what he overheard from fellow Nations, it would be a war that would disrupt the world. The Great War was a hell on Earth. The fires, the pain, the anguish, and suffering—It was too much before, and another would be too much now. Much was lost and what more could be lost?

He should've been in a boardroom discussing international relations, military presence, or economics with his politicians. Or better yet, in the rural areas that were still recuperating from the Great War. Anywhere for him to provide his people with the strengthening presence of their Nation in a time of unrest would’ve been acceptable. The war had only been a few short months ago, but there are still improvements to be made. There always is, in this new advanced world.

Yet on this lazy day, he found himself strolling around in Croatia.

Why, he asked himself.

Why not, he replied.

He left it at that and decided that he couldn’t complain much, anyway. His feet pulled him to where he wanted to go and was greeted with the sight of a beautiful summer afternoon and the sun peeking playfully behind the clouds.

Despite the politics of the world being on the brink of instability, many people did not let it affect their normal lives, choosing to spend time enjoying themselves and looking over the rainbow. New families with their young children, tourists eager to see Italy, and locals on their daily business roamed the old roads with smiles on their faces.

Feliciano felt an identical smile tugging unto his lips as his feet walked him down a familiar pathway.

Why this one, he asked again.

Why not, was the reply once again.

When he got there, he could see that Diocletian’s Palace was not particularly busy which suited him just fine. If he closed his eyes and let the spirit of the land wash over him right there and then, he could almost see the Roman senators walking the old roads of Grandpa’s Empire, dressed in their finest togas and fingers laced with gold and emeralds.

Alas, the tourist cite was not the most popular place, (actually, Croatia itself was not as popular as perhaps Venice or Rome) but it was lively. Feliciano took a moment to bask in the atmosphere of the scene before him. Sometimes, he had to appreciate that the land was truly a great beauty, and he was proud of it. The people here, of course, were what made the icing on the cake.

"Feliciano?"

A voice of a woman called out to him from nearby. He turned his head to spot whoever had just called him then and there. His mind was still a little in the clouds, so his senses of the real world were a bit blurred, but a sudden appearance of a head of black hair at the corner of his vision brought him back to see the young woman in front of him.

Like magic, his mind didn’t hesitate for a second to put two and two together to recognize who this person was. "M-maria? Di Angelo?" At her nod, Feliciano's own face lit up like the glow of a hundred candles.

"It's you, ve~!" Feliciano exclaimed in joy and hugged and kissed his old friend on the cheek in a characteristic Italian greeting. She, in return, laughed sweetly, hugging him back. Feliciano could sense several passersby smiling at their sweet reunion before going on with their business. Feliciano took a step back to assess her. It had been a while, after all.

She seemed to be doing well. Her ebony hair was wavy and healthy as it fell over her slender shoulders. Her brown eyes were still a lovely dark shade, and just like the night they met, glowed like stars. A smile danced on her face, joyful and bright. Dressed in a pretty silk scarf of black and silver that complemented the familiar dainty pearls on her ears, Maria di Angelo radiated beauty.

"Of all the places we could've possibly met up again, it was not Venice!" Maria exclaimed in joyful disbelief.

Feliciano laughed along. He had forgotten how joyful a company Maria di Angelo could be. "Truly, a great coincidence! What are you doing here, signora, all the way in Croatia? I myself am here on business," he rambled on, happy to see her, and telling the half-truth that was familiar to his tongue in the presence of his civilian companions. "I assume that you, on the other hand, are here willingly, and for pleasure?" His curious tone prodded a smile from her beautiful lips.

" _Si_. I live in the States now, but I am here for a small vacation and a bit of sightseeing," she replied, motioning to the leisure atmosphere of the Croatian setting. Feliciano couldn't help but nod in agreement. The Diocletian Palace was a very nice place to just watch and enjoy the scenery. "But of course it wouldn't be complete without my new little ones."

It was at that moment that he noticed the two small heads, a girl and a boy, standing behind Maria, attached firmly to her skirt. In glee, he greets them both, noting their beautiful youthful eyes and their mother's soft hair on their heads. The girl, who stood obediently at her mother's feet, stood in a shy stance, half-hiding herself. On her head was a pretty white bow to match her lovely brown dress. The other little one, in the meantime, was clearly interested in this stranger and watched Feliciano with wide dark brown eyes. His heart couldn't help but give a small sigh of happiness. The innocence of children seen in their hopeful eyes was such a beautiful thing.

"This is Bianca and Nico, Feli. They are my children." She told him, patting both on their heads.

"Very fine names for a beautiful little boy and girl," he tells Maria, looking back and forth between her and her children, proud eyes filled with happiness for her.

He was about to express his congratulations before he stopped himself. His smile faltered for a quick second. Though he loved any child that belonged to his land, he could already tell with his extra senses as a Nation that something was a little bit off. It wasn't a dangerous feeling like an alarm, no, everything seemed to be safe; there was just something else, an extra presence that radiated from the children.

It was faint—like feeling the warmth of a candle’s small flame from across a room. He wasn't completely sure if Maria felt it too, or if she knew the source of this oddness herself, but before he could put his finger on it, a tall pale man walks up beside Maria in eloquent fashion. Maria smiles at him before turning back to Feliciano.

"Ah, of course. Feliciano, this is my husband. Amore, my friend Feliciano from Venice," she said, motioning her hand between the two men.

The escort looks up and the two men lock eyes. Feliciano decides he must’ve been spending lots of time with Lovino for the past months because the only he could only think one thing:

_Oh fuck._

Despite the human disguise, Feliciano had enough years of practice around less-than-logical experiences to recognize Pluto, the Roman god of death and riches. Thinking quickly, he hid his surprise behind a polite cough. Maria was still watching them after all, and there was no need to make her suspicious of his reaction to a man he had supposedly never met. The deity does the same in hiding his astonishment, subtly raising an eyebrow in a mixture of curiosity and shock, but revealing nothing else.

Ah, so this is what Feliciano had sensed. Surprisingly enough, it did not make him panic or feel afraid in the slightest. Despite being in front of a literal god in a crowd of mortals, where anything can easily go wrong, he felt no alarms ringing from this divinity who did not seem to be harmful. He has barely another second of calm before he presses his lips together and frowns internally. If he was Maria's husband, then that meant that the two little ones were—

He is snapped back into the moment as the god of the underworld extends a hand for a polite handshake, which Feliciano returns. He was just starting to think about what to say without angering the immortal deity before little Nico suddenly squirms and Bianca tugs at her mother's skirt, pointing to a nearby lemonade stand.

"Excuse me, _mi amore_. The children are thirsty." Maria tells Pluto, looking into his eyes with that all too familiar look that Feliciano has seen in many couples in all his years of living.

“It is quite hot. Go get yourselves a drink, then. It will do you no good to be parched,” He replied. Gruff and low was his voice, but with hints of softness around the edges nonetheless.

Then turning to Feliciano she says, "I will get you a drink, too, Feliciano." Maria excuses herself to get drinks for the adults and the children, and Pluto and Feliciano Vargas are left to converse between themselves.

Although there was a slight tension felt between the two immortal beings at the moment, neither seemed exactly too keen to break the silence and begin a conversation that could go who knows how many ways. Oftentimes the resulting outcome of the aftermath of such a conversation was _not very good_ . 

However, it wasn't necessarily a big deal seeing a god casually strolling around mortals; and he had encountered the Roman pantheon several times in the past as well, back when Grandpa was in his prime. Even in the modern-day, it wasn't that uncommon for him to pass by a _Lares_ back home whose eternal afterlife was still tied to the ancestral house of a powerful family during the time of Rome that was still preserved and standing.

But someone as powerful as the god of the underworld?

Either Feliciano was just unbelievably unlucky, or fate decided their meeting was not meant to be a coincidence.

They had a strange history, actually. Rome was a nation dedicated to good food, wine, women, and sparring—that was a given. But Rome was also dedicated to their gods and the amount of worship they gave to these powerful deities. 12 months of the Roman calendar and at least a third of those were dedicated to religious holidays in honor of the ancient all-powerful beings whom they dedicated gladiator fights and grand temples too.

But Feliciano himself was only a little province at the time—a baby Nation who was dependent on the big strong Empire to feed and house him and his brother while their _sorrelle_ in the South lived independently on their islands and their distant cousin Byzantine roamed the West. Their Etruscan mother-nation had already been dissolved into the Empire a short while into their childhood, so they were mostly left to themselves to watch as politicians, generals, and deities came into their grandfather’s house for a meal as a guest.

A god from the religion or mythology of a nation did not always interfere with mortal affairs through the Nation itself, but formality and respect for each other’s domain were always a given if one wanted to avoid civil war or natural disaster. Two immortal beings that had vastly different powers had to be cautious around each other at worst, but friendly and courteous at best.

There’s a reason why diplomacy was such a familiar affair for him, of course.

"It has been a while, my lord," he said finally, making small talk as politely as he can. You never knew when a god would smite you out of boredom or anger issues. The god of death didn't seem to be that broody at the moment though, even giving a chuckle in return at the formality.

"It has, mister Veneziano." He replied. "Last I saw you, the great Roman Empire was bouncing you on his knee." Feliciano gave a polite nod of the head.

"Ah, yes, my grandfather Roma was quite the character during his prime, signore Pluto," he said smiling. Fond memories of his grandfather always made him do that.

Pluto returned the smile, (which in itself was rare and was a good thing, Feliciano noted) and said, "Yes I do remember. As of now, though, I am my Greek form, Hades," he pointed out. 

Feliciano merely nodded with a hum in reply to show he was attentive. Why Hades would be promenading in his Greek form in a land with Roman history, though, was beyond him, but he decided that prying into such business at such a time would probably not be wise.

"Do you go by Feliciano now, as Maria had introduced you by?" Hades asked courteously.

"My human alias, of course. My brother—I’m sure you remember him, signore— and I am still known as Romano of the South and Veneziano of the North; to our fellow Nations we are simply Italy. Although I'm surprised you yourself, signore Plu…Hades has not used one. With Maria especially."

Feliciano spoke in a softer tone at that last bit, should anyone in the open courtyard be listening. Expression changing from bubbly to expectant of an answer, he dropped his ever-moving hands to clasp in front of him meekly. Submission. Showing no intentions to agitate or offend the other. That question was on the rather bolder side of things he could’ve asked the deity, but really, curiosity had gotten the best of him.

Wasn’t there something England always said about a cat? He couldn’t remember.

Hades' expression was not entirely readable. It was somewhere between a grimace and an understanding smile like he had been expecting to be asked that very question someday but after all the time in the world to think about it, he still had no decent answer. His pale lips moved in an uncertain manner as if its owner’s body had not decided yet what reaction to give.

"It is rare, yes, that I ever take a mortal lover, much less reveal my true identity and name. But Maria di Angelo...she knows, and she has been willing to live with that. With me. Even willing to bear two children of our own," he said.

At that, the both of them look over his shoulder to see Maria fussing over the two children a further way away, coaxing one stubborn child to take a sip while the other had already seemingly gulped down the contents of her own cup.

Feliciano was actually satisfied with that answer, surprising even himself. Immortals were not meant to become a part of the life of a mortal. He knew; he had gone through that himself many, many painful times. Maybe he wasn't as old as the other in front of him, but even a few thousand years meant the same merit. The curse of immortality only leads to an ill-fated love that would last forever like a ghost, like a spirit that remained alive in death.

But he could see for himself that this man, this god in front of him was not ready to let fate take its toll on his life with this mortal woman. It was the kind of passionate love that only a pair who returned each other's love with equal passion had. It made Feliciano give a little smile in appreciation that Hades and Maria were truly willing to go against fate to attempt a legacy of love, for however long they could.

He gave an approving smile in lieu of a verbal response.

And as if the word legacy was magic, Feliciano felt a small bump and heard a muffled grunting sound at his knee, finding a little girl with a white hair bow holding a little cup of lemonade that sloshed around in her cup as she looked up at him with what he realized were her father's dark eyes.

"Mama said that this is for you," she told Feliciano, holding it out to him. She could not have been older than eight or nine, barely a child, still ignorant to the power that she held as a half-god.

Feliciano smiled warmly and took the cup from her hands. He took a sip and uttered a small _Grazie, signorina_ before she turned to give her father some juice too, seemingly not recognizing him. Hades took it graciously before she turned back and bolted off.

“And the children?”

“They do not know,” was Hades’s reply. “At least, not for now. It is better they do not know these things if the circumstance does not yet call for it.”

Feliciano nodded at this. The logic was sound, and it was probably for the best. Until the children were of age to start attracting the less-than-friendly presences of beings from their godly parent’s pantheon, bringing them to be aware of the mythical side of the world that their human sides could not yet fathom was bound to bring some foreseen disaster.

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

"I'm ever so happy to see you both get along." The sound of Maria's voice drew everyone's attention, just like every other aspect of her. The way she walked, the way she smiled, the way she balanced three cups of lemonade in one hand and in the other a boy who couldn't have been older than 6; she had an aura of elegance and grace, and unspeakable beauty.

Bianca had apparently run to her mother, then, Feliciano noticed, as he spotted her beside her mother again, watching carefully with the virtuous eyes of a child. He brought the cup to his lips and grinned at the little girl who seemed satisfied that he drank the juice she had given him. She took her little brother’s hand, whispered something in his ear, then both looked up at their mother.

“May we play?” Bianca’s voice was soft and hopeful, and oh so small. She was shy, probably, in front of the unfamiliar male adults conversing with her mother, but she seemed plenty happy when she was given the go-ahead and dragged her giggling sibling off to the middle of the court to play a small game of chase.

Feliciano's heart smiled as Maria went up to her husband to leave a peck on his cheek. With a single glance it was ever so clear why one immortal soul would even risk a chance of love with this mortal, she who was dainty yet firm; a rarity among humanity, and fit to be the wife of a god.

“Si. Feliciano is very eloquent in his speech. I see why you two get along,” Hades gave her a kiss on the cheek in greeting and the two stood together, shoulder-to-shoulder like the happy couple they deserved to be.

“Good, good. So tell me about yourself, Feliciano,” Maria said, turning her attention back to him now that the children were no longer tugging on her skirt and were now racing around the courtyard squealing with glee. “How long have you been in Croatia? Or in Italy for that matter; don’t tell me that you’ve spent the past decade or so in only one country, no?”

Feliciano gave a hearty laugh. “Ah, well, one cannot help but appreciate the homeland, as they say. I've traveled past the border several times, yes, but no other land speaks to my heart quite as much as Italy.”

_Literally._

“Feliciano Vargas, still the wise one as ever.” Maria's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Tell me, does your spouse ever get bored of your talk?”

“Well, that’s an easy question to answer, Maria. Unfortunate to say, but I don’t have one.”

Maria scoffed teasingly, disbelief clear in her tone. “You mean to tell me that Feliciano Vargas: eligible bachelor with an eternally youthful face, respectable profession, and flirtatious personality has not yet welcomed a lovely young girl into his home to share his life with? Come now, Feli, don’t lie to me.”

“Unfortunately, not all of us are quite as lucky in the game of _amore_ as yourself, Maria. Call me picky, but I am taking my time.” The bubbly giggle in response to his playful wink pulled his heartstrings in affection for the now-grown woman who was like a dear playful sister.

“You will drive yourself to an early grave with your sweet tongue, signore Feliciano if your coquettish spirit still runs free that way. People will associate you with those womanizing socialites if you cannot control it in the presence of a married woman’s spouse.”

“Believe me, Maria, when one dabbles with the political affairs of the mortal world, there are much more gruesome ways to find the world of the dead. Aren’t I right, signore?”

Hades gave only a lopsided smirk into that little inside joke. “Indeed. There are many other tales of the fallen from grace. Tell me, have you heard of the American named Zachary Taylor and the story of his death?”

Maria held onto her husband’s arm at the mention of a story and leaned an ear closer to listen. “I’m sure Feliciano—that stubbornly knowledgeable man—already knows, but tell it to me. We have lived in the United States for years now, but I’m afraid I am still a little unfamiliar with the history.”

“Amuse, me, signore,” Feliciano challenged playfully. “What way could a man with such an utterly _dreadful_ sounding name have died that his death is the talk of gossip circles?”

As Hades dived into the tale of fireworks in early July and ripe red cherries, the three adults stood under the shade of the trees as they chatted, caught up with each others’ lives, and reminisced old memories in the courtyard of the Palace of Diocletian. The di Angelo half-bloods dodge and weave around their ankles, making them laugh fondly as the lemonade in their cups spills over the rims because of it.

And right before Apollo begins his great feat of descending the mighty Sun chariot from the skies of the heavens above, Feliciano has to say his goodbyes.

“Say goodbye to your Uncle Feliciano, Bianca. Nico, be polite. Say goodbye.” Maria wrangles both stray children trying to escape her grasp, lifting one struggling toddler into her arms with the ease of a practiced mother.

“Arrivederci, Zio ‘Ciano,” Bianca says, leaving a shy kiss on his cheek that makes him smile and pat the ruffled and now lopsided bow on top of her head.

“I hope to see you around again, bella.” He gives her a mischievous wink that makes her giggle and hide her face behind her hands.

With a few final goodbyes and a promise of hoping to see the family again, he turns around to begin his departure on foot. Lovino would definitely have a word with him if he arrived home later than expected in a typical endearing brotherly fashion. He was always particularly adamant of him not missing their Wednesday night dinners—especially tonight, as it would be Feliciano’s turn to cook and he hated having to wait for his food.

As he walks down the road, taking in the atmosphere of Croatia in the sunset, he can't help but turn his head back to sneak one last glance at the group. Maria had finished wrangling up the children, now, and he could see the sleepy-eyed Bianca holding her father’s hand and yawning while little brother Nico was fast asleep and snoring in his mother’s embrace.

He catches the eye of Hades, who puts a finger to his lip and a pointed glance at Feliciano.

Ssshh, it said. This is our secret.

And with a polite tilt of the head, Feliciano turns around and continues walking. But fate had a strange way of bringing the past to him again in the future.

* * *

Feliciano did not exactly anticipate an encounter with the legacy of Hades soon afterward. Granted, his next meeting with anything to do with the god of the underworld was no less than just under a hundred years later, but when you're immortal, "soon" is a word left to interpretation.

Apparently, upon noticing the absence of a certain Chinese Nation from the world conference after lunch break that day, the room had turned into a "Can I leave now, too?" debate, and the meeting was called off early. Truthfully, it was the best choice, seeing as nothing would have been accomplished either way, much to the silent opposition and fury of Germany. Feliciano had attempted to calm down his dear friend Germany with a happy smile and words of comfort and encouragement. 

(Or least he _assumed_ they were words of courage and encouragement. Fratello did often say that his endless high-energy babbling would sometimes cause more stress than calm, but it was the thought that counted, was it not?)

And with big brother France offering to treat the usual G8 group to eat at a nearby French restaurant later for dinner, Italy decided to spend a little time on his own first, idly strolling the American landscape.

Despite being known for his notorious loudness, (which he could relate to, somewhat) America's land was indeed very nice when you took the moment to look around.

Sure, it wasn't Venice where the beauty of the architecture was manifested in the preserved environment of ancient times, but Italy can admit the open air and shouts of the New York children as they played in the parks was a beauty, too. The high-rise buildings cast shadows on the street that combated the heat of the noontime sun nicely, though the funnel effect irked him just a little bit as his hair flew messily in the wind.

Nonetheless, as a self-proclaimed well-versed traveler, Veneziano Italy knew to appreciate foreign sights when he saw them.

The foreign setting in front of him currently was a little different from what he expected to find in the middle of Manhattan, though.

It was a little past the noon rush hour by now, and he was just simply walking down an empty minor street trying to figure out the direction to the hole-in-the-wall café and coffee shop America had recommended he visit when he heard the roar of a distinctively magical beast and a warning shout in response echoed in his ears and made him stop in his tracks.

Right. The pantheons had migrated to America.

It had been a while since he’d dealt with mythologies other than the Roman one on rare occasion, so sue him if he’d stood there frozen for a bit before rushing forward towards the source of the commotion.

Ducking behind a conveniently parked car, he peeked his head out a bit to spy, clutching a summoned weapon in hand. It had been a while since he’d had to use _Vittoria,_ but the hum of the five-feet longbow made of imperial gold sat familiarly in his palm.

Then he sensed an aura.

It was a very old, very familiar, and very unique aura that he had almost forgotten.

He could’ve backtracked, tried to deny it, but he knew he couldn't mistake that certain aura of power for anything else. The distant memory of laughing hazel eyes and a man drinking the lemonade of a little girl rose up from the back of his mind.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he squinted at the young man who couldn’t have been anything but a demigod. And as he looked closer he could see the rather distinct Italian features, the hair of midnight black and dark hazel eyes all too familiar, and aura of a demigod child of Hades.

And that was all that was needed to give away the fact that this was Nico di Angelo, son of the mortal Maria di Angelo and Hades, god of death.

Why on Earth a toddler from the 1930s was alive as an adolescent child in the modern-day and why he had such a disastrous wardrobe that betrayed his fashionable Italian heritage was beyond him, but that was currently not important.

What was important now was that Nico di Angelo was being attacked by a devilish beast whose aura, he sensed, was Eastern—although from whose pantheon Italy couldn't fathom whose exactly—the former of which seemed to be losing badly.

But he knew to keep his distance for a little longer. As much as he wanted to, suddenly jumping up from behind a car, slicing the monster to bits for attempting to harm a hair on the boy's head, and having to explain why and how he knew the said boy was a little too sudden.

Even worse, if by some godforsaken chance the boy _recognized_ him, he would truly be in deep water. Unlikely, but he was not willing to take the risk. But before he could even contemplate how to help, the demonic creature of terror and illusion charged at Nico, visibly pained and helpless on the ground.

Feliciano was just about to move when a shout and the slicing of a bronze sword in the air made him stop in his tracks for a second time that day.

China was here too?

He smirked slightly to himself. At least he knew the whereabouts of his fellow Nation now. What a treat. He decided to keep that information confidential until he can confront his fellow Nation about his absence during the oh-so-important and utterly boring conference he should have been in about two hours ago.

Deciding to eavesdrop a bit more, he was very much surprised to figure out that China and Nico seemed to know each other, and had apparently encountered the other before if the closeness and familiarity of their voices in their tiny squabble symbolized anything.

He couldn't help but smile at that from behind his hiding spot. It was a wonder to him exactly why, where, and how they had met, but the brotherly—almost parental—nature of China that he very rarely showed publicly was enough to indicate that Nico was in good hands.

And in very worried and experienced ones too, as the Chinese Nation explained the intensity of the monster's ability to a bitten and injured Nico who was huddled in his arms like the young toddler Feliciano remembered him as in the city of Croatia all those years ago. He couldn't help but let out a small gasp of shock himself, for the _yaoguai_ , as China had called it, really was such a demonic monster that its bite would fade away the soul of the poor one who fell victim to its bite.

Fortunately, China seemed to know the healing process for it.

As China started walking to wherever Nico's supposed camp was (and this Will boy, who seemed to be very cute from Nico's descriptions), their voices fading away slowly in the distance, Feliciano found himself putting away his weapon and rising from his place of hiding to fathom what he had just heard and witnessed. Evidently and inevitably, he would be questioning answers and answering questions with China very soon.

Maybe not immediately, no, but Feliciano would definitely have to find the time very soon in order to confront his fellow Nation about it, try to clear out a few things, maybe even be informed of new things he probably should know.

Like the fact of why Nico di Angelo was even _alive_ at the moment. And very mortal.

 _The paradoxes of death, I suppose,_ he thought as he started to walk back the way he came, the atmosphere of the New York setting now a buzz in the background. Feliciano couldn't help but think to himself, looking down at the ground and his feet as he walked back the way he came.

" _Dios mio_ , Maria," he muttered to himself, not particularly knowing or caring how much of his words made him seem crazy in the eyes of American locals who watched him trudge down the cement roads. "We just keep encountering each other in such odd places and odd times. I wonder what Signore Hades would say…”

The ground didn't answer or give as much as a rumble as Feliciano Vargas returned to his hotel room to prepare for a dinner out with friends.

**Author's Note:**

> As a tribute to my two oldest fandoms, and because my muse was being cooperative today, apparently, here's my 2020 rendition of my first ever crossover fanfiction! yaaaay. It was originally posted on my ff.net account and now it's like, double the length after I "edited" it. 
> 
> ((Do people even know hetalia or write percy jackson fanfiction anymore lol))
> 
> Edit: So apparently Croatia is NOT a part of Italy, and is actually a region west of Italy. I can't believe that I actually put in effort to research colleges accepting female students in the 1930s but failed to get the SETTING, of all things, wrong. And that I only figured it out TODAY. Ugh don't look at me I'm embarrassed /o\


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